


Fire and Tears

by lancer365



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst, Drama, Established Relationship, F/F, Family Drama, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Short Story, Some Romance, sad but gets better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:53:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23072008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lancer365/pseuds/lancer365
Summary: Not long after Voyager’s arrival back home, a traumatic event tests the strength of Kathryn and Seven’s relationship, becoming a life changing moment neither will forget. (Epilogue up)
Relationships: Kathryn Janeway & Seven of Nine, Kathryn Janeway/Seven of Nine
Comments: 15
Kudos: 68





	1. Chapter 1

Fire & Tears

Chapter 1

A blue shimmer of atoms and particles hustled together in the middle of an upscale farmhouse’s lengthy driveway; it and the yard covered a stagnant white. The Rear-Admiral emerged, sticking her hands in the pockets of her black coat, her shoes crunching into the snow as she started forward.

This was one of the few times she felt glad to have a three-layered uniform. She always thought having a grey crewneck zipped beneath her uniform’s red inner shirt was overkill layering. Who would even notice if she didn’t wear the grey shirt? It wasn’t like she was unzipping anything at work—although there was that one time Seven stopped by headquarters, _demanding_ to see her. At that thought she bit her lip, Seven’s unpredictable hormonal spikes always kept her on her toes.

But in the summer months, this uniform created nothing but a sauna; the grey and black jacket heavy by itself. Maybe that’s why Starfleet buildings tended to be cold.

Christening snowflakes fell on her shoulders, powdering her coat as she trekked up the driveway passing a couple maple trees stripped of their leaves. That damn transporter never dropped her close enough.

The wind’s swiping chill stung against her skin, chattering her teeth as she neared the house’s porch and stepped up the stairs to the main door. Looking over, a gentle frown lengthened her mouth where she stood, staring at the empty porch’s wicker chairs and polished wood floor dusted an untouched white.

Phoebe had long since moved out—even taking the dogs— and was hopefully close to marrying that man Ethan she met at some art convention. Sometimes he was a bit of a dud, relying on his good looks and charm. But he had proven himself to be committed to her sister and that’s what mattered the most.

Shortly after Voyager’s arrival, in one of the first heart to hearts she shared with her sister, they discussed their significant others around a cup of coffee, sitting at their childhood breakfast table in the kitchen—mom couldn’t part with the vintage square table, just kept patching up its scuffs and cracks. Naturally Phoebe’s nosiness got the better of her and she dug in, asking a plethora of questions about the “Ex-Borg Bombshell”.

_“Where did she come from?”, “How the HELL did you score someone that hot?”, “You think she’d want to be a model? I could use a face like that.”_

She’d be lying if she said Phoebe’s fascination with Seven didn’t make her glance out of the corner of her eye. But Seven was hers and only hers, the blonde confirming that many times.

She wanted to smile at those memories but couldn’t muster more than a dull smirk.

The house was hers now; mom left her the beloved family possession her father inherited from generations before him, trusting her to uphold the Janeway legacy.

 _‘Mom.’_ She missed the warm sound of her mother’s voice ringing throughout the halls.

 _“Kathryn is that you?”_ Like clockwork, Mom’s voice used to flow into the foyer when she came home from work at four in the evening; the screech of the screen door was probably the giveaway.

Those days as an Ensign were bittersweet and carefree. Coming home to the succulent smell of her mother’s cooking thickening the warm air, a smile never failed to grace her features; the woman notorious for hating the replicator. Toasted bread, lasagna, meat, and more, Mom never made it easy to keep her waistline within regulations while she was home.

Things changed when she became a Lieutenant Commander; she moved out, and her mother’s innocent conversations turned into a badgering of questions about kids, family, marriage, etc.; the nurturing woman loving the innocent joy and warmth childhood laughter brought to the house. But after Voyager returned, she never heard her mother’s meddling inquiries again, just remembered how crushingly tight her mother held her when she walked back through that door after seven years lost in space. Tears soaked her Captain’s uniform and overwhelming relief rushed her heart.

That was almost three years ago now, and she swore she could still hear her mother’s voice roaming the lonely halls at 4 p.m.

The Admiral shook off the memories, her eyes burning. She hadn’t even made it into the house yet, just stood there with her hand on the doorknob.

With a deep, resetting breath she pushed the door open; she couldn’t let herself get trapped in the past again. She had to tame the dark recesses of her mind before the negativity consumed her cracked and worn psyche, dragging her back to that grim, cold place.

She couldn’t become a hollow shell again, walking the house’s dark, drafty halls like a ghost searching for absolution.

Seven deserved better, having stuck around, having been the hand to guide her through those difficult days.

A godsend, Seven was the reason she wore the ring on her left hand with pride.

Slipping her shoes off at the door, the Admiral headed into the kitchen that opened into their living room, her black socks slippery against the hardwood. Unzipping her uniform jacket, she remembered the wet coat she forgot to hang, but just peeled both off at the same time, readying a toss over the leather sofa’s arm.

_“Prolonged exposure to water will damage the leather.”_

Freezing with her arm hanging in the air she hesitated then smirked, hearing Seven’s voice in her head. God, she loved how the littlest things Seven said somehow stuck with her. Her wife was the know-it-all that actually knew-it-all, able to access a downloaded piece of information about as fast as any computer.

She tossed the coat and jacket on the rug.

Left in her red inner shirt, she kindled the mahogany-mantled fireplace, her tongue hungering for the refreshing taste of a warm cup of coffee.

_‘I don’t want to walk back to the replicator.’_

The fireplace’s heat enveloped her in its embrace as she found her favorite spot in the middle of the rug and laid down, stretching out on her stomach, arms pillowing her head as the flames’ entrancing dance calmed her soul and tired her already weary eyes.

The fireplace was her favorite part of winter, and she’d seen many in front of this one.


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N.** Right where the last chapter left off. I’m trying my best to get this out as quick as possible. I also tried to get this to flow the best I could, hopefully the time switches aren’t too jarring.

Sidenote: I'm a music lover. Sometimes I will note a certain song that helps set the mood of the chapter. So whether you listen or not, here's some mood music: Vissi d'Arte - Giacomo Puccini 

**Chapter 2**

Heading up the steps with her coat slung over her arm, Seven caught the sight of snow-slushed footprints leading into the house as the wind rustled a few escaped cowlicks sticking out of her ponytail. _‘Kathryn?’_

At the door she slipped out of her dirty, hay-riddled boots and left them beside the doormat.

She stepped into a dark house and hung the coat on the rack, having memorized where it was to her left. Dusting off the lingering stable debris from her sweatshirt and pants, smelling of cedar and hay, she closed the door and took one step, her foot wobbling on the uneven surface beneath it. But having tripped over Kathryn’s sprawled shoes multiple times, she gracefully caught her balance and pushed the shoes next to the coat rack with the tips of her toes.

“At least I know you’re home.” She said to an empty foyer, her eyes drawn to the orange glow touching the kitchen. She moved further into the room; the flickering glow painting the living room walls in its softness, furniture shadows cast about the floor. Rounding the marble countertop’s corner, she moved across the hardwood with rolling steps, invading the golden amber radiance shining atop its polished surface.

“Kathryn?”

There was no response but as she passed the sofa, she smiled at why. Her Captain, now her Admiral laid on the rug in front of the fire, blanketed in its bright glow.

Now she was used to the sight of the stomach-sleeper spread out on the floor, but the first time she found Kathryn lying on the floor like that her heart almost stopped. Until that day, she never realized how afraid she was of losing the one person who truly meant the world to her.

But dozens of naps later, she learned to love the sight of her tired wife finally getting a moment to rest from the chaos of her stress-inducing job.

Sometimes she laid beside her, busying herself with data downloads or reading current events as the Admiral slept. Occasionally her own eyes grew heavy, and next she knew Kathryn was waking _her_ up.

The fire’s dance continued, some flames whipping the air at their tips, wanting to escape, to finally be free…to destroy. Why did humans allow themselves to cling to something so dangerous? For the prospect of warmth, she assumed, still struggling to understand the human need for comfort. Her implants regulated her body temperature and the sensitivity of her skin to outside stimuli. But Kathryn was fond of the fire, telling her watching it was calming. So, she readjusted the setting of her internal thermosensor to accommodate for hours in front of the suffocating fire.

In front of the coffee table she sat on the rug and took the Admiral’s shoulder, pulling her towards her lap, the Admiral’s back touching her knees.

On her side, Kathryn’s eyes cracked open and closed again. Seven smiled, remembering the days where touching the Captain while she succumbed to her impromptu naps was enough to startle the woman awake, but not anymore.

The fire’s crackling filled the room, bringing back old memories, and a fleeting sense of déjà vu.

When she first walked into the Janeway house, headed away from the family’s reunion and into the living room, she found the setting strangely reminded her of the Captain’s Da Vinci simulation, her eyes drawn to the fire. The holodeck’s projections were typically well constructed, realistic representations, but it failed to capture the true, all-consuming nature of the fire’s power. Its heat latched into the fabric of her biosuit as she neared the family photos on the mantle; the *clack* of her heels echoing against the hardwood.

The Captain’s likeness was in each photo. A grey-haired woman with a softer face and cerulean eyes, a young woman with redder hair and cerulean eyes, and finally the face who resembled the Captain’s the most, an older man with a steel jaw and grey eyes. _“Family.”_

Long dead she never met Kathryn’s father, but had one of her most memorable conversations with Gretchen, Kathryn’s mother, on the sofa behind her, warmth surrounding them as they spoke separate from the sisters readying dinner in the kitchen.

_“How well do you know Kathryn? How do you feel about Kathryn? Have you thought about marriage?”_

She answered each question and must have looked uncomfortable because when Kathryn interrupted their conversation, which left off at Gretchen’s warning of _“She’s not always an easy person to deal with”_ , the Captain took her shoulders and told her to _“relax”_ with a grin directed to her mother.

_“Mom, stop interrogating Seven.”_

_“What? I just want to make sure she’ll take care of you.”_

Gretchen’s concern touched her. _“If that was all you should have asked your question directly, I assure you I am well-versed in many aspects of the Captain’s life. I have her daily routine committed to memory.”_

The house silenced after she said that, but didn’t stop Kathryn’s sister from breaking the moment, shouting “ _Yup she’s a keeper Katie_ ” from across the room.

Despite the sisters’ chuckling banter, she stared into Gretchen’s piercing gaze, never forgetting the hopeful and slightly shocked look in the woman’s shining eyes.

_“And mom…Seven’s memory never fails.”_

_“Is that right?”_

_“The Captain is correct. I do not forget.”_

_“Well Seven, welcome to the family…You’ve got a lot to learn.”_ Gretchen’s eyes saddened even though she smiled as she said that.

If only she knew then what she knew now. If only she knew why her eidetic memory was so valuable to Gretchen, why the woman often tore her away from Kathryn to teach her how to cook the Captain’s favorite meals and how to care for the farm, amongst many other things.

_“I’m starting to wonder if my mom is keeping you away from me. I hardly saw you today.”_ Kathryn once commented with a grin as they lay in bed.

_“I find her lessons interesting.”_

She remembered the Captain’s chuckle. _“As long as you don’t go running off into the sunset with my mom…”_

Her smile faded at those memories but brightened when she snapped out of the past, sliding her hand over the Admiral’s stomach, her diamond ring capturing the fire’s essence, glinting iridescent colors with the smallest shift of her finger. “Long day?”

The Admiral sighed her acknowledgement.

Locked into an updo, Kathryn’s reddish hair had grown, and although she missed the bob, she didn’t want her to cut it, not yet.

She pulled out the restricting pins containing the Admiral’s hair and set them aside, letting her fingers lengthen and comb through the thick tresses. Kathryn didn’t bother to ask what she was doing anymore.

The Admiral shifted below her and out of her collar a gold chain hooked around her neck slumped to the floor, sparkling in the fire’s glow. Kathryn wasn’t fond of gold, hence the silver wedding band. But this chain belonged to her mother. She put it on one day and never took it off.

Seven's thumb brushed over the Rear Admiral insignia on Janeway’s neck. Pride swelled within her the day she pinned them on the Captain’s collar two years ago, Starfleet having advanced her a whole rank.

What was supposed to be a small formal gathering, turned into quite the spectacle for Starfleet. All of Voyager’s crew that could be there were—Starfleet even suspending all meetings and planned events. The senior officers of deployed ships hologrammed into the ceremony and soon hundreds crowded the ceremonial common grounds, some looking down from office balconies. And if they didn’t already know the Captain’s wife, they learned that day who she was when she kissed her cheek.

The Captain smiled, but none of them knew the crippling loss she had endured months before that promotion.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**2 years and 2 months ago**

_“I can’t get ahold of her. Tell her she needs to get home now.”_

_With her hair rushed into a ponytail, Seven stormed into Starfleet headquarters after that worrying call from Kathryn’s sister. If it weren’t for her limited clearance, she would have marched right past the visitor’s desk and to Kathryn’s office._

_“I need to see Captain Janeway.”_

_The blue uniformed attendant looked at the shiny ring on her right hand_ _—a wedding exception made for the Borg implants on her left. “Oh, you’re the lucky wife huh?”_

_Seven’s brow furrowed. “Now. The matter is urgent.”_

_“Go ahead and check in.” The attendant pressed a few buttons on his console, his earpiece glowing a gentle blue._

_Seven placed her hand on the countertop, the embedded biometric scanner reading her fingerprints._

_“I apologize Admiral…” The attendant started. “I have an urgent request to see Captain Janeway on the lobby floor.” He paused. “Seven of Nine.” Another pause. “Understood Admiral.”_

_The glowing earpiece dimmed, and the attendant looked to Seven. “She’ll be down in a moment.”_

_Seven nodded, stepping away from the counter, her gaze catching the turbolifts moving up and down along their towering tracks in the far corner of the building; the headquarters ceiling seeming to stretch to space itself._

_Shaky breaths coursed through her and her palms started to sweat, this level of anxiety a new feeling. Being the barer of bad news was a heavier burden than she thought. Her eyes darted from person to person, surveying but not focusing on anything as Starfleet personnel bustled around her._

_“Seven?”_

_Her eyes snapped to the direction of the voice and she saw the Captain, emerging from the sea of people; the woman’s smile slowly fading the longer they looked at each other._

_“What is it?”_

_She wanted to take the woman into her arms, but the Captain had an image to maintain and Starfleet headquarters wasn’t the place to be embracing in the lobby, too many prying eyes. “Your mother.”_

_Kathryn searched her eyes, a troubled crease forming above her brow. With sudden urgency in her steps, she walked to the attendant. “Let Admiral Heins know I’m leaving for the day.”_

_“You got it Captain.”_

_“Come on Seven.”_


	3. Chapter 3

Fire and Tears

**Chapter 3**

_“Mom was upstairs in the sewing room.” Phoebe met them at the door hysterical, her words jumbling together. “When I went up to talk to her she just collapsed. The doctor’s with her now.”_

_They rushed upstairs to Gretchen’s bedroom._

_Seven halted just past the doorway, muscles tensed, stilled by the pale reality of the mother’s face as the two sisters brushed past her._

_Gretchen’s pulse was erratic and weak, slowing down and speeding up, working too hard to be normal._

_She took tentative steps closer to the four-poster bed; the room’s mint walls darkened an eerie green from the inefficient light, an orange glow crawling up its surfaces. Her brow furrowed above her unblinking gaze as she hovered in the middle of the room; the fireplace's heat caressing the back of her legs._

_She ignored the bald man’s medical jargon but caught the phrase “cardiac arrest” roaming the air. Her gaze whipped to his and she strode to where he stood, keeping to himself beside a dresser, the tenured despair in his eyes turning to fear as their eyes met and he took a step back. “Why are you standing here? Why aren’t you doing something?” A jolt of adrenaline rushed her body, her skin tingling with impatience._

_“W-Well…” He stammered, searching her face with jumpy eyes. “There’s nothing else I can do. There’s too much damage to her heart, and in her state, surgery isn’t even an option.”_

_A couple hours, that’s all he said she had left._

_Before she could refute, a tug on her arm jarred her attention to the desperate wife pulling her towards the bedside._

_“Seven what about nano-probes? They’ve worked before.”_

_She’d never seen so much fear in the Captain’s gaze. That unsettling look made her want to try everything she could, even if she knew something had little chance of success. “I_ _—”_

_“Don’t.”_

_At Gretchen’s weakened voice, she looked over to the mother propped on pillows and tucked under white bedsheets, the Captain letting go of her arm and sitting on the bedside._

_“Mom_ _—”_

_“Seven.”_

_Amid Kathryn’s protest, Gretchen called her and she moved closer, standing behind the Captain._

_The pale woman whose blue eyes had dulled, tried to smile and hold in the gentle quivers at the corners of her mouth. “Don’t listen to her nonsense about saving me_ _—”_

_“Mom.” The Captain pleaded, but Gretchen shook her head slow. “No Katie.” She managed to lift a hand and place it against Kathryn’s cheek. “I miss your father too much……You and your sister will be okay.”_

_Gretchen’s hand slipped from the Captain and reached out. Seven stared at it, regarding the hand’s frailty with hesitance. Closing the space between her and Kathryn, Seven took the hand, her brow tensing at its chilling skin._

_Instinct told her to place her other hand on the Captain’s shoulder, and she did. She waited for Gretchen to say something, it looked like she wanted to. But the woman’s eyes drifted to Kathryn and when they looked back to her, reddening slightly, Gretchen simply nodded, keeping her smile._

_The hand slipped from hers and the woman looked to the fireplace, her eyes glazing over._

_It was reeling to think that just days earlier she sat on the porch with the grey-haired woman bearing Kathryn’s resemblance, listening to her reminiscences._

_\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_“Kathryn always tried to save everything when she was little. Every animal, dying flower, you name it.” Gretchen chuckled from her seat as she watched the plains, enjoying her afternoon respite with eyes showing the weariness of her age. “It was hard teaching her to let go.”_

_“I still do not think she’s grasped that concept. But I suppose that was beneficial for me.” Seven saw the woman turn to her out of her peripheral vision but didn’t look over._

_“When did you realize you loved her?”_

_\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_Interrupted, she never got to answer Gretchen’s question._

_Hours passed, day turned to night, and Seven pulled over an armchair, sitting across from the bed, elbows on her knees, watching Kathryn hold her mother’s hand; the Captain's gaze obscure and the bedroom fireplace a silent eavesdropper, looming in the background as it relented its comforting warmth._

_Somewhere in those agonizing hours, she accepted the inevitable, and didn’t bother to spare but a few occasional glances to the woman lying on the bed, eyes now closed. That wasn’t Gretchen anymore._

_The last time she gathered the courage to look at Gretchen, she reached out and put her hand on the Captain’s knee, seeing what Kathryn couldn’t, as Gretchen’s breaths shallowed further, her muscles cold and heartrate minimal._

_Kathryn ignored her touch, not looking over, every ounce of her attention focused on taking in the last details of her mother. But her brow furrowed._

_How long would this misery drag on?_

_Phoebe sat on the bed huddled against the pillows, her arm wrapped around her mother’s shoulders. And at the foot of the bed a couple family dogs lay._

_Phoebe’s boyfriend, Ethan, walked into the room in time to catch Gretchen’s last breath, his darting gaze finding the sister._

_When death came the house quieted, eeriness filling an empty room, the dogs even resting their heads._

_Nobody moved, as though waiting for Gretchen to say something, refusing to believe the truth, that life could end so nonchalant, and nothing came after._

_Phoebe’s tears were the only ones audible, and she welcomed Ethan’s embrace, crying into his shoulder._

_Kathryn stood slow and turned her back to her mother. Wrapping her hand around one of the bed posts, she stared completely entranced at the fire._

_Something wasn’t right about her frozen, unblinking gaze._

_“Kathryn.” Seven stood slow and with careful steps stopped in front of the woman clutching the bedpost with white knuckles. Kathryn was still her wife, but she hesitated to touch the shell-shocked person before her._

_“Kathryn.” She reached out, the Starfleet uniform just at her fingertips, but the Captain flinched from her grasp and pushed past her, barriering her with a weak hand._

_Her concerned gaze followed the Captain to the door, and she started towards her, leather boots squishing into the rug._

_Kathryn paused in the doorway; her arm outstretched to the doorframe for support._

_A sway rocked Kathryn’s form, and rattled, Seven rushed over, grabbing the Captain’s shoulders, steadying the weight in her hands._

_Through her palms the Captain’s shaking radiated into her body._

_She froze, at a loss of words. The woman who stood firm in the face of conflict and tackled battle with courageous ease, had never been shaken this way._

_“Kath_ _—”_

_The Captain pressed a prying elbow into Seven’s stomach and wedged out of her grasp. With haste in her steps she escaped down the staircase._

_“Kathryn.” Seven followed, feet pounding down the steps, but her heart skipped a beat at a door’s slam, halting her on the last stair._

_In the foyer she started forward slower, rounding the staircase, her hand slipping from the wooden baluster as she moved down the adjacent hall, not believing Kathryn could shut her out._

_Yet sure enough, the door to Kathryn’s father’s old study was closed._

_“Kathryn.” Seven knocked on the door, wanting to sigh and put her forehead against it when no response came. “…I’m here if you need anything.” She leaned against the wall, hoping Kathryn would let her in, but minutes went by and the door never opened._

_She could’ve pushed harder, could’ve broken the door handle and forced her way in, but a gut feeling stilled her impatience. The Captain was strong, she only needed a moment to gather her bearing._

_So she let her be, ending up on the porch, sitting in one of the wicker chairs, sparing a couple glances to the empty one beside her._

_Is that how Kathryn would die? Pale and Cold? Leaving her with survivor’s guilt and emptiness?_

_The reality was, fortified by Borg implants, her life expectancy would outlive Kathryn’s. And she couldn’t shake the idea that the Captain’s job put her at even more risk._

_Voyager came close to destruction so many times the crew developed a false sense of invincibility, dulling the seriousness of threats at hand. She had to admit, she too had fallen into that bandwagon, her Captain’s optimism contagious._

_But the Captain didn’t have a reinforced heart or organs like her. Kathryn’s chances of surviving death were minimal._

_As Borg she’d seen starships wiped out and destroyed_ _—vaporized even_ _—in a matter of seconds. Now she couldn’t help but think sordid thoughts of “that could be Kathryn”, that could be the next ship assigned to her, that didn’t have Voyager’s timely luck._

_Swallowing the lump in her throat, tears welled as she watched the black abyss beyond the lit driveway, sinking into the chair, defeated by the sorrow of her bombarding thoughts._

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Three days it rained following Gretchen’s death, but Kathryn refused to bury her mother on a day like that._

_The funeral came by the week’s end, the rain having brought renewed life to the plants and trees._ _She’d never seen so many shades of green gracing the Indiana skyline._

_For the burial, Kathryn specifically requested a modest get together with immediate family. None of Starfleet were allowed to attend, even as they caught wind of the Captain’s sudden absence. Not even Kathryn’s trusted friend Tuvok was extended an invitation._

_The Janeway name, so big and robust. She expected a plethora of family members appearing out of the woodwork, but soon realized just how small Kathryn’s family was. Gretchen’s two sisters attended the service, weeping and bawling_ _over the sun-kissed mahogany casket. Obviously, that’s where Phoebe got her dramatic side from. But oddly, with the wind tousling her red hair, the sister stood beside Ethan, dabbing her eyes but staying reserved._

_On Kathryn’s father’s side, there was no one left to attend. Kathryn once said his family didn’t have the greatest luck with death._

_A proud military family by heritage, his eldest brother and sister both perished in armed ground conflict, war. His youngest brother, a Starfleet veteran, went mad after succumbing to isolation dysphoria. Hallucinations haunted him, and he ended up dead in a bar fight, “bleeding in a pool of alcohol” as Kathryn remembered her father saying._

_So that left just as many people as she had fingers who attended the burial._

_At noon, on a beautiful day they should have enjoyed, the sisters buried their mother at the family gravesite, on a grassy hill overlooking the sun swept fields of Indiana, right next to their father._

_In her formal uniform, the Captain paid her respects._

_Kathryn didn’t cry once._

**\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Present**

Seven’s hand curled around the Admiral’s upper arm as the stored memories flooded back, of how she stood on that hill, her eyes more focused on watching Kathryn than the ceremonial formalities.

The Captain accepted her offered hug that day, but it was short-lived as the woman wedged out of her grasp after less than a minute and headed back to the house on her own.

For two nights after the funeral, she stirred from her sleep, turning to find an empty bedside, only to travel downstairs and find the Captain passed out on the tufted couch in the study.

The second night her jaw clenched, and brow knitted together as a flash of adrenaline rushed her, at the disappointing sight of a tumbler and empty bottle of bourbon strewn on the floor, beneath the Captain’s dangling hand. She thought about shoving her awake and reprimanding Kathryn for her stupidity. But letting her frustration subside, she felt Kathryn’s pain.

_“I’m sorry you have to go through this,”_ she whispered to the fast-asleep woman, and picked her up, bringing her back upstairs.

The house was too quiet. The life swept out of the once bright halls now dark, like a candle extinguished.

Phoebe and her boyfriend stuck around, and Kathryn went back work, despite her sister’s urges to take more time off.

_“You talk to her.”_ Phoebe chided out of frustration.

And she did, receiving an irritated wife in return.

_“Seven I don’t want to hear it from you too. I’m going back to work. I won’t be stuck in this house…it’s better if I’m not.”_

She still remembered when she first noticed her heart racing a little more each time Kathryn left, morbid thoughts haunting her days. She had a bad feeling about Kathryn returning to work but wanted to support what Kathryn assured was better for her mental well-being.

But how mistaken Kathryn was.

Each time the Captain walked through the door, she looked like she was on the verge of tears, just doing what she could to hold it together.

_“How are you doing?”_ Relieved, she would hurry to the front door and ask after giving the Captain a kiss—half-stilted on the Captain’s part, lacking rapture and warmth, but still their kiss.

Sometimes Kathryn murmured _“Fine”_ in response, and sometimes she said nothing, just headed straight for that study.

Then a week after the funeral, the fight came, and she got a glimpse at one of the many stages of grief, anger.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**A.N.** This was way longer than I expected. I had some POV issues with this one and I hope they didn't make this unreadable. I’m excited to finish the next chapter and get to my favorite part of the story, which as of now is chapter 5 ;). Mood Music: Puccini—Un Bel Di Vedremo. This song reflects on optimism and loss. Or, the song Javeda Zindagi.


	4. Chapter 4

Fire and Tears

**Chapter 4**

_The Captain came home and secluded herself in that study again._

_Pulling her loose blonde hair over her shoulder, Seven opened the study door and entered with a mug of fresh brewed coffee in her hand_ _—not that replicator stuff._

_Kathryn glanced up from her desk but went back to working away on her computer._

_From the Captain Seven looked to the ceiling high bookcases, where a replica of Voyager sat in a shadowbox atop one of the shelves. It caught her eye every time she entered the study._

_Voyager all seemed like a distant dream now._

_Shortly after Voyager’s arrival and a few days of rest, Kathryn was pulling her out of bed, showing her nearly all of Indiana within a month_ _. The animals, the tilled and wild fields, the captivating technologies (which she automatically scanned to decipher), and finally the cities where people_ _—individuals_ _—ran amuck._

_Constant distractions, new sights and sounds, presented themselves at a dizzying rate. People meandered around with no set destination, hardly aware of their neighbor, partaking in activities that had no relation to one another; a perfect example of what confusion would ensue should the Borg’s collective mind disintegrate._

_At least on Voyager, individuals were still united through a common purpose_ _—keep the ship running to get home._

_“It looks like chaos”, she remembered telling Kathryn as they walked along the bustling streets of Bloomington, and the woman chuckled._

_“You’ll get used to it. I promise it’s not as bad as you think.” The Captain reassured, later diving into an intimidating amount of information about human lifestyle, enough to make her head hurt._

_But for that eager sparkle in the Captain’s eyes, she let Kathryn guide and instruct her on Earth’s customs, even listening to her intriguing stories of Earth’s history, tales of unyielding endurance and dark origins._

_Resting in Kathryn’s arms as the gifted orator shared stories and experiences, was one of the greatest feelings in the world. Her captivating words painted vivid images and her charm kept her stories from growing dull._

_The world melted away when she closed her eyes and sunk into Kathryn’s embrace. Nothing else mattered, and any lingering emptiness haunting her drifted away with the protective caresses from the woman above._

_Earth was one of many habitable environments, not a home; Kathryn was home._

_If Kathryn weren’t by her side, she’d probably still be traversing space, living in a small ship alone, having acquired her Captain’s alluring fondness for exploring the galaxies, basking in the solace of those starry viewports she took for granted._

_Seven set the mug on a coaster beside Kathryn, letting her gaze linger on the woman who ignored her, eyes darting about her computer screen._

_Kathryn missed dinner every evening since Gretchen’s death, and she was getting used to bringing the Captain a plate of food into the study, a cup of coffee to appease her, and a tall glass of water to flush the constant caffeine from the Captain’s system_ _—Kathryn complaining of headaches; a menacing furrow clutching her brow._

_She turned to leave._

_“Thank you Seven.”_

_At the quick acknowledgement she looked back to the Captain, but Kathryn still wouldn’t look at her._

_Part of her wanted to force the woman off the computer, but what would she say once she had Kathryn’s attention?_

_What did the Captain need to hear? That she missed her? That she felt alone without her? That Annika needed her reassurance? That she wanted to know her Captain would be okay?_

_She couldn’t find the right words, so she left the room disappointed, but growing used to the feeling._

_This human emotion, grief, puzzled her._

_How long before she’d see the Captain’s smile again?_

_The Kathryn who locked herself in the study for hours on end, hardly speaking, resembled someone bleak, not her Captain._

_And she hated it, but now, in order to kiss Kathryn goodbye in the morning, she had to wake up at the crack of dawn, weariness burning her eyes as she watched the Captain get into her uniform. If she didn’t, she woke to an empty bed and missing wife._

_Was this Kathryn’s new normal? She was beginning to wonder if the romantic, warm Captain she fell in love with was long gone._

_But because of that love, she would adapt. Just as the Captain stood by her side during the ebbing and flowing of her emotional journey, she vowed to do the same._

_Come late-evening she found the study empty for once and searched for Kathryn. Her heart beat a little harder, but before she could worry, she caught the voices of the two sisters and a sliver of light leaking from the cracked door to Gretchen’s room._

_“You knew and didn’t tell me. You’re my sister for God’s sake!”_

_Kathryn’s seething voice shot through the door as though the Captain were giving a reprimand._

_Seven climbed the steps and neared the room, a couple floorboards creaking beneath her bare feet._

_“Mom kept telling me “not yet”. I was just respecting her wishes.” Phoebe defended. “Voyager came home, and she was more concerned about not ruining your happiness. She knew what you’d do, we both did.”_

_“You had no right.”_

_“What could you have done anyway Katie? What difference would it have made if she told you_ _—”_

_“I wouldn’t have to live with the **shock** of my mother’s sudden death!” The room quieted at the Captain’s aggressive scold. “It wasn’t your decision to make.” A growl crawled within the Captain’s softening tone._

_For several moments no sound came, and stilled at the door she noticed her heart thumping against her chest. Seven reached for the door handle…_

_“Mom’s heart failure was diagnosed just over a year after you left.” Phoebe started with a downtrodden tone to her voice and Seven pulled her hand away. “The doctor said it had been left untreated, progressing for too long…her chronic coughing tipped him off.”_

_Seven leaned against the wall, waiting for Phoebe to continue; the sliver in the door too small for her to see into the room. She had heard the coughing too. It was mild, nothing to draw alarm, or so she thought. But so caught up in her new surroundings and exploring the habitat_ _—the “home”_ _—she had long been deprived of, she didn’t pay attention._

_“When two admirals came to the house…telling us Voyager had been declared a loss…I…” Phoebe hesitated. “…I’d never seen mom fall to her knees. She just cried...I could barely move her.” She paused. “She had her first heart attack a month later.”_

_Time stopped as silence staled the air. Gentle creaks came from that reading chair opposite the fireplace in Gretchen’s room. Kathryn almost always opted to stand when she was angry, and pacing typically followed that habit. So, the one sitting in the chair, shifting, had to be Phoebe._

_“Mom thought you were dead. And it killed her even more thinking she wouldn’t have a body to bury...thinking you could just be floating in space somewhere……at least with dad we had something.”_

_Seven’s jaw clenched._

_“She wasn’t the same after Voyager’s loss. We struggled with your “death” for five years.”_

_“You’re saying it’s my fault…”_

_Phoebe didn’t answer immediately. “I always warned you about joining…what it would do to mom.” Her words turned cold, a mean and callous side of the sister surfacing. “But you wanted to follow in dad’s footsteps……she worried about you too much.”_

_A furrow scrunched Seven’s brow._

_“I never told her about the shootout you were in as a Lieutenant, nor about the phaser fire that grazed you. Hell, most of the crazy stories you told me I kept to myself. I knew it would’ve killed her to hear how her first born narrowly escaped death.”_

_Seven caught Phoebe’s gentle scoff at the phrase “First born”._

_“So it’s all on me…is that what you’re saying? That I killed Mom_ _—”_

_“You being halfway across the galaxy didn’t fucking help! **I** had to watch her decline! **I** was there the days she could barely make it up the damn steps!” Phoebe’s voice boomed, aggressive and rushed. Then a bout of silence followed. “You should be grateful she saved her best for you.”_

_Seven pushed off the wall and put her hand on the door handle, anger boiling, breaths deepening. ‘Don’t listen to her Kathryn.’_

_“You knew what you were getting yourself into with Starfleet. You knew mom didn’t want you to go.” Phoebe paused. “Are you going to say it was the ship’s fault for getting lost?”_

_Seven’s eyes widened then shot to a glare, her hand clenching the handle so tight the metal started to bend. She readied a pull._

_“Right…” Kathryn started with a beaten tone. “…you were just the perfect daughter, walking out on the family to pursue a penniless career, only to show up years later and beg for mom’s help.” The Captain’s words burned. “You never once thanked me for cleaning up all the shit you left behind_ _—"_

_“At least I was here when I needed to be.” Phoebe snapped._

_“…You ungrateful…” Disgust laced the Captain’s voice, but she was holding back._

_Vibrations buzzed under Seven’s feet, getting closer and heavier as she let go of the handle just before it could be ripped out of her grasp; the door swinging open to reveal a furious Kathryn, whose brooding eyes held an ominous warning. If Kathryn noticed her standing there, she didn’t show it, only focused on racing down the steps, Phoebe lunging out after her._

_“Ungrateful what?! Huh?!” The sister clung to the banister, yelling to the level below before jetting down the steps in pursuit. “Kathryn!”_

_It all happened so fast._

_Heading down the steps, Seven followed, noticing the absence of Kathryn’s shoes by the door, her heart starting that worrisome thump once more._

_“Kathryn!” Phoebe shoved the screen door open and Seven hurried, catching the swinging door._

_But by the time she made it to the porch, coming to stand beside the fuming sister, Kathryn was nowhere in sight._

_A fury of pounding hooves erupted from the stable just out of view behind the house._

_“Oh no.” Phoebe paled, running down the porch steps in time to watch the grey stallion_ _—only bridled, not saddled_ _—take off before them with a dashing gallop, leaving dust clouds in its wake. From resting atop her head, her hands slapped to her sides. “God dammit Katie.”_

_Phoebe marched up the porch running a hand through her fiery red hair. On the top step she stopped and Seven felt the anger clenching her face as their eyes met._

_What Phoebe said was searing and unnecessary. She had no idea of the hardships Kathryn endured in the Delta Quadrant, and how much she desperately wanted to be home._

_“You don’t seem too worried. She’s your wife.”_

_A spark lit in Seven’s eyes. How dare she belittle her concern for Kathryn. Oh she could’ve wrapped her hands around the woman’s throat…but Kathryn wouldn’t have it. Seven looked down into the woman’s eyes with disdain painted on her face. “You had no right to say what you did. You don’t know what she’s been through.”_

_With a roll of her eyes, Phoebe furrowed her brow and snatched open the screen door, disappearing inside._

_Seven looked to the golden plains and walked to the edge of the porch; the sun’s dying orange rays streaked across the sky like fire. ‘Where are you going Kathryn?’_

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_Waiting in uncertainty was the hardest part._

_Sitting at the breakfast table in the kitchen, Seven huddled a lukewarm cup of coffee in her hands._

_Phoebe stood, back turned to her, leaning over the countertop with her mug and a begrudging scowl._

_They sat unmoving, silence hanging in the air; the lights dimmed to an amber glow to conserve what they didn’t need._

_“Don’t bother going after her.” That’s what Phoebe said before they made it into the kitchen, when the sister found her standing at the screen door looking out as the last of the sun set._

_“Why?”_

_“She’ll be back.”_

_The confidence in Phoebe’s words calmed her worry. But as the sky darkened to its lonely abyss, she found herself walking to that screen door more often, watching for any sign of Kathryn._

_Dewy winds shook the screen and blew into the house, whistling their lament through the door’s cracks._

_Then, the rain came, crying over the plains._

_She pictured Kathryn cold and wet, walking the horse down the muddy, dirt pathways as heavy raindrops beat into her._

_‘I should’ve gone after her…’_

_Into the mug she stared at the brown liquid, not able to do much else._

_Kathryn once mentioned that her and her sister were complete opposites and had their issues. But this was the first time she witnessed the sisters throwing such cut-throat personal attacks, and that display only seemed to scratch the surface of what they could do to each other._

_Phoebe’s motives were cryptic. Kathryn’s selfish and brash sister was much harder to decipher than the Captain herself. One moment she could be the nicest person in the world, vibrant and energetic, but the next she turned into a vindictive monster, her blue eyes sharpened with vengeance._

_A pang in Seven’s gut told her to stand and go to the screen door again. She pushed away from the table and stood without a word, walking to the door, wind rummaging her blonde hair as she reached out and set her hand on the handle._

_Lightning clashed across the black sky and illuminated a dark figure heading up the dirt path to the house._

_Not needing to think, Seven yanked the door open and stopped in the middle of the porch, wondering if that figure was really Kathryn. Who else could it be?_

_Lightning clashed again, and she saw the soaked red of the Captain’s uniform. Her chest heaved with relief._

_With her gaze down Kathryn trudged up the steps with squelching feet, her hand wiping the water from her face. When the Captain looked up, she stopped in her tracks as their gazes met; a tormented crease in her brow, her eyes reddened._

_Seven moved closer taking the woman’s arm, cool water squishing from the Captain’s uniform, rolling down the back of her hand. She pulled Kathryn into her embrace and held her tight, not caring about the wetness darkening the color of her sweater._

_The Captain was home, that’s all that mattered._

_Her right eye stung with unshed tears. And although the Doctor improved the emotional response in her left, matching it as best as he could to her organic eye, she still couldn’t feel the tears burning behind it. She inhaled a shaky breath, the Captain’s hair cold against her chin, the faint earthen scent of the river and stronger musk of the horse still clinging to Kathryn’s uniform._

_She gave the Captain a reassuring squeeze, surprised to feel the gentle emerging of a smile on her lips, as she found comfort in the thought that Kathryn went to one of the places where she held some of her happiest memories. That river, Kathryn had already taken her there many times; the meditative flow of the water easing them both._

_“Come on.” Seven whispered, pressing a kiss to Kathryn’s hair and turning them around. Jarred at the sight of tears falling down Phoebe’s cheeks from behind the screen, she stilled._

_The door opened for them and with a gentle purse to her lips Seven walked in, her arm taut around Kathryn’s waist as she paused in the doorway to look at Phoebe._

_The sister averted her teary gaze but nodded her head._

_Seven looked away, continuing up the stairs, noticing how much she had to pull Kathryn, almost as though dragging an animal back into captivity._

_In the bathroom Kathryn broke from her grasp and sat atop the toilet lid, letting out a decompressing sigh. Her shoes scraped the tile as she slid her legs out and leaned against the back of the toilet, eyes grim and distant._

_‘You can’t scare me like this.’ Seven’s jaw clenched. She tore her gaze from the woman and walked to the claw foot tub against the opposite wall. Sitting on the ledge she drew the water, her reflection rippling wild as she stared into the tub._

_Seeing the Captain’s pain hurt the most._

_“Here.”_

_She turned to the soft voice at the door and stood, not finding a smile to give the sister who held a fresh pair of clothes in her hand; Phoebe’s eyes avoiding Kathryn._

_“Thank you.” Seven took the clothes and pushed the door closed, laying them on the sink’s countertop beside the Captain._

_She looked over to the woman once the epitome of strength, knowing her sorrow in this devastating time was justified. At the Captain’s feet she crouched, wrapping a hand around Kathryn’s thigh, just above the knee._

_Kathryn stared straight ahead._

_With an upward crease in her brow Seven reached up, slicking back the wet strands stuck to Kathryn’s forehead. “Captain.” She pleaded._

_A semblance of life awakened in the woman’s eyes, as though whatever had a hold on her let go._

_Kathryn’s gaze fell to her lap, and a few moments later the woman’s hand slid over the one at her knee._

_Seven looked to the cold hand over hers, hope rejuvenating and eyes brightening._

_The Captain was still there._

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A.N. Now it’s Kathryn’s turn…


	5. Chapter 5

**A.N. Mood Music: Eternal Breath by Shigeru Umebayashi. This song is really worth a listen, lyrics are beautiful. I like the Chinese version, but there is also an English version that’s just as awesome.**

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Chapter 5

**Present**

*Drip*

*Drip*

Kathryn stirred with a furrowed brow at the moist drops hitting the side of her face. She wiped them off her cheek and looked to the hand on her arm. _‘Seven?’_

The Admiral shifted onto her back, propping a leg.

She glanced to the woman above and did a double take at the fire-lit tears glistening in those crystal eyes. She wiped the sleep from her eyes and looked back to Seven just to make sure she wasn’t seeing things, but the tears in Seven’s eyes remained.

“Why are you crying?” Kathryn reached up wiping the tears from Seven’s eyes.

Lost in a trance, Seven stared at the fire without giving an answer.

“Seven.” Kathryn took the woman’s jaw and Seven returned with a gentle jolt, clearing her throat, wiping the tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Why are you crying?” The Admiral asked again.

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“Just old memories.”

Kathryn’s gaze drifted to the ceiling. The sight of tears made her think about her mother, and how she thought hers would never cease.

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_She cut through the air, her uniform fluttering in the wind as they zoomed by blurred trees._

_How far did she ride? She didn’t know, but kept going, having lost the dirt path a long time ago; the trees disappearing, opening to a landscape of tall-grass fields painted a sun burnt orange._

_Thunder rumbled overhead, but she couldn’t stop. If she did, she’d break, already holding back tears welling in the eyes under her furrowed brow._

_She pushed him, Odysseus, heels pressed into his sides as she leaned closer to his black mane; the reins wrapped tight around her clenched fists._

_His hooves trampled the ground with a thunderous clatter, dust and debris kicking up around them._

_“Ungrateful Bastard.” She growled. Phoebe had the nerve to blame her for causing mom grief but never confessed to her own mistakes, typical._

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_“I don’t know what your sister wants from me. Why is she so angry?”_

_“I don’t know mom. Maybe it’s better if she learns from her mistakes on her own.”_

_“…You sound like your father.”_

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_Phoebe left when they were both in their twenties, having always looked down on the “dirty farm life”, conceited in her aspirations of seeing her name in lights, wanting to live the big city life._

_Coming home to her empty room one day after work, she smirked in the doorway, not able to believe Phoebe would leave without a word. Didn’t her conscience bother her?_

_Mom stayed up all night, waiting for her to come home, and she never did._

_Disappointed and tired, she barely knew what to feel or how to respond to the gaping hole in their hearts Phoebe left behind._

_She tried to brush off her sister’s abandoning and go to bed. But that night, as a sense of loss roamed the house’s atmosphere, she couldn’t sleep knowing her mother sat alone downstairs, slowly losing hope._

_“What did I do wrong with the two of you?”_

_“Nothing…You are and have always been a great mother.”_

_Mom sat on the sofa and cried in front of that brewing fire, and she pulled the older woman into an embrace, holding onto her mother tighter than ever before. She recalled the rising fury sharpening her eyes, stirring hot like those searing flames, at the sight of innocent tears falling down her mother’s cheeks._

_Mom didn’t deserve the heartache._

_She threw her sister’s picture off the mantle but watching the glass smash and shatter against the wall didn’t bring any relief._

_“Kathryn stop.”_

_Her mother still tried to protect the person who caused them such grief._

_How admirable motherhood was, that her mother couldn’t help but love the child who spited them, the child she nurtured for twenty years._

_No matter what Phoebe did, what fires she started, she was still her daughter._

_“I’m tired of living on this smelly farm in the middle of fucking nowhere.” Phoebe foreshadowed her departure in one of their conversations, and she could’ve, or rather should’ve told mom. But in her defense, she never thought Phoebe would really leave._

_She understood her sister’s drive to do and see more, the Janeways had always been explorers, but Phoebe didn’t have to spit on the family name in the process of reaching her goals._

_Blinded, seeing nothing but red, she almost leapt onto the horse’s back without bridling him, giving truth to the family joke that Odysseus was the horse you rode when you were angry._

_His gallops, fast and hard, might have seemed untamed to the inexperienced rider. He was a far cry from the ease and prancing grace of his mother, Athena, her horse of seventeen years._

_White coat and blonde mane, Athena was a fighter but also a gentle soul with mesmerizing beauty._

_Found lying in the plains injured, with an attack wound at her leg, the family came together to nurse her back to health. But she spent the most time tending to her in the stables, checking on her as much as she could, sometimes sitting on a hay pile beside her with a book in her hand, or a few PADDs of Starfleet coursework._

_Odysseus was Athena’s last parting gift to her before she died…and a hard death that was._

_Stubborn like his father, a feisty thoroughbred, she had her work cut out for her in taming him._

_“Kathryn be careful with him.” Her mother would warn with an unsettled gaze as she watched her step into the outdoor ring with a 2-ton menace. But determined to ride him, desperate for something after Athena’s death, she gathered her courage and faced him, confident in her father’s teachings._

_Odysseus’s breaths huffed from his nose like an angry bull, and his dark eyes stared at her crazed. He pawed the dirt, he kicked, he reared, he snorted, and he bucked. It took four days to get a saddle on him, and another week before she climbed atop._

_Day after day he got the better of her, and the newly crowned Captain landed on the ground with a splat, spitting dirt from her mouth as he trotted the ring with smugness in his peppy gait._

_Surprised her body could endure such a beating, she kept trying, and one day he gave her the final test_ _—an initiation of sorts_ _—leaping over the wooden rails and galloping away much like he did now, her hovering over his back like a jockey. Only then, a wide grin beamed across her face after the initial terror wore off; the wind whipping her hair as the landscape rushed by so fast it felt like they’d lift off the ground at any moment._

_He was her horse, a true embodiment of her heart’s desires…and riding him was like escaping into an alternate reality._

_It was only fitting that stabling such a robust stallion proved difficult. He’d broken free so many times they got used to the sight of him trotting back home. But he always came back, knowing where he belonged._

_He only wanted to run, to explore and see all there was to be seen before it was too late. And seven years later, the nine-year-old had matured beautifully. It was surprising that he still remembered her after so long. But her mother once said, “They never forget”._

_Crying out his resistance Odysseus reared, snapping her from her thoughts, her heart racing as she fought gravity, pulling the reins to lock him down._

_His front hooves slammed back to the ground, and she calmed her pounding heart with gentle panting breaths, finally taking note of their lonely surroundings; rain’s dewy scent thickening the air as wind rustled her hair._

_Thunder rumbled again, louder, closer, but she wasn’t scared as she watched scattered stars emerge from the indigo sky._

_Odysseus huffed, bowing his head. Moonlight shining from amidst scattered clouds crowned his mane in its gentle glow, reflecting off the thousands of blades of grass wuthering at his feet._

_Alone._

_The blades rustled against each other, creating a withering *swoosh* against the silence._

_It was easy to feel like they were Earth’s only inhabitants, and this was where the mind began to play tricks._

_Stretching vast and endless, the plains could ease the soul of the right person and drive another mad._

_In space there was a special name for the overwhelming loneliness, Isolation Dysphoria. Coming home from long missions, the irritability, anxiety, and lack of self-control dissipated for most Starfleet servicemen, becoming just fleeting memories as they readjusted to their old lives. For others, the anxiety turned to panic, and the memories became hallucinations. Families struggled to comfort loved ones when they didn’t understand the illness, and sometimes the person just wasted away, slow and tormented to madness._

_Although never stricken with Isolation Dysphoria, she still recalled her first lengthy deployments, and how her mother’s comfort eased the whiplash of being thrown from one environment to the next._

_But now a memory was all her mother was. How long before those dulled and faded? How long before she started to wonder if her mother was just a figment of her imagination all along?_

_They used to ride the plains together as a family, each on their horses. How fortunate they were..._

_Although her mother had long since gotten off the horse, she still saw their bright grins and heard their utter joy, echoing the plains._

_Odysseus dragged her forward and hounded by memories she let him guide her; the reins slackened in her hands and her shoulders hunched._

_Surrounded by a sea of tall grass, she stared, entranced by its rolling, wave-like rhythm as unwanted tears escaped from her eyes._

_She didn’t want to go back, not to that empty house._

_Releasing his exhaustion with a sputter of his lips, Odysseus waded through the grass brushing his knees, and she leaned over, putting her head against his mane, slumping like a wounded soldier._

_“Go home Kathryn.”_

_She heard her mother’s voice in her head, so predominant it could’ve been real._

_She closed her eyes, swaying with Odysseus’s steps. “I can’t, not yet.”_

_Was this torment the payment she received for her dutiful service? For choosing to serve a cause greater than herself? For losing time?_

_“Would you take it back?” The voiced asked._

_A rustling tinker caught her ear, growing louder, becoming a soothing rush as they passed, and she fought a shiver against a sudden breezing chill; the creek’s familiar crisp scent awakening her senses._

_“No.” She answered the voice’s question and opened her eyes. Sure, the seven years on Voyager could’ve been shortened, but she’d seen and done more than any Starfleet Captain so far, and lived to tell stories about it. That was the beginning of her legacy, the memories she’d leave behind after she too became another body in the ground._

_Odysseus sloped down and she lifted herself, turning over her shoulder in time to see them leave the plains behind._

_The ground turned to hard dirt and rock as she looked ahead, sobered by the ethereal sight of her favorite childhood creek. In summer her and her sister would play in the water as kids, mom slouched in a chair with her saddle brown ranching hat tilted against the sun; a ginger smile peeking from beneath the hat’s wide brim._

_At two creekside trees standing opposite each other, she pulled Odysseus to a halt and slid off._

_She led him to the tree closest to the water and secured his lead to it, waiting for him to bow his head and drink._

_Once he did, she turned to the other tree, pushing up her sleeves as she walked to it and sat at its foot, leaning her back against it, not catching the first rain drop to fall beside her._

_The water sparkled beneath the moon’s intensified glow, flowing with ease over mossy boulders and branches._

_Her arms hung over her bent knees and she looked to Odysseus patiently standing in wait before her, the glowing sweat along his grey fur making him appear silver. He shook his head, throwing his mane from side to side. He hadn’t lost an ounce of his fighting spirit._

_If only she had the same undying strength._

_She sighed, resting the back of her head against the tree, and looking to the black sky with a desperate plea hinted in her grey eyes._

_How long would the suffering continue? Probably forever, she’d just learn how to live with it. The pain would dull but linger, waiting for something to trigger the tears again. That’s how it was with dad’s death._

_She thought she had moved on, but found herself crying, reaching out for his guidance after Voyager’s stranding._

_“Bad things happen Katie, and it’s up to you to find yourself a way out of it. Even if it takes all you have, even if it takes you. Don’t. Stop. Trying. As Captain you have an added commitment. Your ship is your life until the mission is over. So fight or die trying. That’s what a Janeway would do.”_

_A strict man, that’s what she envisioned her dad saying. He would’ve rolled in his grave if she’d given up on Voyager and let them all float in space for seventy-five years. So, she fought hard and long, relying on faith for seven years, knowing that they’d make it home somehow._

_As honorable as self-sacrifice would’ve been, she counted herself lucky that her Captain’s legacy didn’t end with Voyager bursting into a ball of hellfire._

_‘Would he have worried about me if he knew about Voyager?’_

_Dad rarely showed his gentler side and Phoebe complained about his apathetic ways, never running to him for comfort, that was always mom’s job. But Phoebe never understood that dad’s comfort manifested in different ways, lessons and practical advice, not hugs. He wanted them to learn to overcome struggles through analyzing and finding solutions, not by making foolish mistakes._

_She admired his strength and integrity, asking “what would dad do” until she had nearly mastered the ins and outs of Starfleet command._

_If only she could’ve told him she’d become a Captain. He would’ve been proud to see her promoted._

_Overwhelmed with thoughts she hung her head._

_“Go home Katie.” Her mother’s voice spoke again, but this time she only shook her head in response._

_“She needs you.”_

_That’s right. ‘Seven…’_

_Drifting in her own world she nearly forgot she was married. What an asshole she was._

_“…No she doesn’t.” She looked to the water’s vivacious current and turned to the creek’s edge with a crouch on one knee and a furrowed brow._

_“She’s worried.”_

_‘So…’ She thought, and almost said but stayed quiet instead._

_“Through life’s hardest moments you have to support each other, but you also have to accept her support. Honoring that is just as important as your vows. You can’t push her away Katie.”_

_Her eyes burned as she watched her hand immerse into the creek’s stream, hoping the chill would numb her thoughts._

_“She’s hurting too, because you are, and she doesn’t know what to do.”_

_Her tears fell from indifferent eyes and into the water, washing downstream._

_“I know you’re used to being the person everyone looks to for help and guidance. But what about you?”_

_More silent tears escaped, guilt drawing into her gaze as her brow tensed. She swore she felt her mother’s supporting hand on her shoulder._

_“Let her in Katie. She’ll love you regardless, but that love will strengthen beyond measure if you let her in.”_

_A gentle breeze caressed her face and she lifted her waterlogged hand to her mouth, swallowing the lump in her throat, ashamed. ‘I haven’t treated her well, have I?’ She stared at the water. “What do I do?” She whispered._

_“You go home.” The voice faded into the night air._

_Raindrops fell into the water, rippling its surface, and she lingered as it pattered against her back._

_‘I’m not ready.’ She closed her eyes, not intending to move for a while._

_Odysseus neighed beside her and she turned her head, glancing to him out of the corner of her eye, watching him pull against his lead._

_Despite her hesitance she had to go, she had to face the house and those blue eyes again._

_Standing, she unhooked his lead and hopped onto his back, giving him a nudge with her heels._

_He climbed the slope, his hooves grasping the dirt just before it turned to mud. The plains came back into view, and with one tight press of her heels he took off, reinvigorated._


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_Hollow and dreary, the house weakened her resolve, haunting her with ghosted memories replaying throughout the halls._

_Faithfully Seven tended to her, getting her clothes, bringing her food, reassuring her with quick kisses in passing._

_But seeing her own sadness mirrored in Seven’s eyes only made her sorrow resurface, forcing her to face feelings she tried to shove away._

_She always sensed Seven’s worry but didn’t acknowledge it, knowing it would weaken her further._

_But she couldn’t ignore the unsettling fear glistening in Seven’s eyes when their gazes met on the porch; that look making her catch in her steps as the pouring rain cascaded from the roof, veiling their moment from the world. At Seven’s clear unrest she nearly forgot her tears, feeling a sudden urge to protect, until she realized she was the cause of Seven’s distress._

_In the bathroom she stayed quiet, lacking the strength and want to muster any words. Seven ran the bath water, leaving her with one of those quick kisses shortly after._

_She stole a sneaking glance to the woman as she exited the room, catching the drained features of Seven’s face._

_Seven was hurting…and tired, saying a lot for someone whose body regulated away the slightest imperfection._

_‘I’m sorry.’ She admitted only in her thoughts._

_Cleansed of the evening’s unpleasant reminders and in a fresh set of clothes, Kathryn laid on her side, her back turned to Seven, and her arm draped over the bed’s edge._

_She opened her watering eyes and rolled onto her back, her body flopping over like deadweight, so exhausted. Night after night this still happened, just when she finally thought she could escape the world and rest, sleep evaded her._

_Seven never knew how she used to slip from bed on nights like this, taking a bottle of Bourbon from a cabinet in the study and trekking to her mother’s grave, drinking as a true Janeway would. Sometimes she wondered how she ever made it back to the bed. A few times she didn’t, waking up on the couch in the study, explaining off her absence from bed with an “early rising” excuse._

_She stopped the drinking, beginning to spiral to a very dark place, and because Seven would find out sooner or later. Those were questions she didn’t want to answer, and a fight she couldn’t afford to have._

_A soft but eerie shade of blue shrouded the room, hazed by the moonlight’s glow seeping in from the bedside window. Her disheartened gaze watched the ceiling, her breaths pained and shallow._

_‘Phoebe’s right…I should’ve been here.’_

_Common sense told her she wasn’t at fault, but the rational part of her brain was obscured by melancholy. She couldn’t help but lament over the seven years lost, the time stolen from her, time she could’ve spent celebrating family traditions, helping Mom around the farm, and having more conversations, all before it was too late._

_Now, escaping the “what ifs” seemed impossible, but they were pointless to dwell on._

_No hardship on Voyager amounted to this. Nothing surpassed this aching grief that shackled her to the dark passages of her mind, consuming her sanity piece by piece, and stealing her strength just when she felt okay again._

_Dug deep in her own grave she couldn’t climb out…the walls were too high._

_Seven…the name that grounded her to reality and disrupted her ruminating sorrow._

_Maybe Seven’s caressings would soothe her to sleep. She never knew since she isolated herself as close to the bed’s edge as possible, wanting to be alone._

_Life always found a way to stab her in the back, never letting things get too perfect, and the loss of her mother just as her relationship with Seven began to grow exemplified her claim._

_The bed shifted as the woman beside her rolled over._

_In the silence the sound of Seven’s tender, measured breaths touched her ear. Her brow tensed as guilt washed over her at the thought of how much she’d pushed her away; the confusion in Seven’s eyes turning to a dull acceptance. She couldn’t let Seven see her broken, she wasn’t ready to show that side of her yet. She was supposed to be her Captain, her rock._

_A cool, easy breeze drifted through the room from the open window, chilling the tears that escaped from the corners of her eyes. She sat up slow, wiping her face with a sigh as she draped her legs over the bedside and looked to the floor, her hands bracing the bed’s edge._

_Captain didn’t mean anything; Hero wasn’t who she was. Strength, she scoffed at the idea. Her chest ached, eyes burned, and head throbbed; the expense of her on and off crying. Although, surviving on caffeine and alcohol didn’t help either._

_Leaning over, she rested her elbows on her knees and put her head in her hands, pushing her fingers into her hair. Her mind numbed and her gaze grew complacent, but tears still fell into her lap._

_She heard her mother’s coughs, but never bothered to ask if it was something more. How stupid._

_She looked to the full moon glowing bright in the black, starlit sky from beyond the window._

_‘Am I really here?’_

_The universe had made a mistake somewhere. She was in the wrong place; a stranger living someone else’s reality._

_This life couldn’t have been hers. She hardly felt the clothes shifting against her skin as the cool air breezed in, catching her as she stared without registering the realness of her surroundings, lost in a maddening limbo._

_Trapped._

_She had to get out, to take up command once more and get as far away from here as possible, to forget._

_Her chest tightened as she inhaled a breath that shuddered against her will. She couldn’t take her thoughts anymore. The memories, recountings of what once was became too painful to bear, and joyful moments hurt to reflect on. She wouldn’t see her mother’s warm smile or hear her voice again._

_The bed shifted behind her, but she didn’t notice._

_Hanging her head, she wiped her eyes._

_‘Mom, why didn’t you tell me? Because you wanted to preserve my happiness? If I’d known sooner I’d…’_

_Exactly, that’s why Mom didn’t tell her, because she would’ve dropped everything and come running, not willing to accept the finite nature of a condition that couldn’t be easily fixed._

_Still, that was no excuse to keep her in the dark. She should’ve known, and the unfairness of it all only made her angry. Phoebe wasn’t crying or suffering as much as her, because she had long prepared for this inevitable outcome._

_‘How long did you know Mom?’_

_She looked up to that moon again, hardly recognizing the hand that came to her lower back, warming her skin through her linen, mandarin collar shirt. At the hand’s tense on her side her mouth quivered, and fresh tears welled in her eyes, her brow pulling into an upward crease. She covered her mouth, feeling herself about to burst, her breaths deepening in hopes of recovering control._

_With a silent exhale tears ran down her face, warm as they rolled over the peaks of her knuckles, her hand tightening over her mouth. She couldn’t break._

_Another hand slid over her stomach and met its match, locking her in their comforting embrace._

_Warmth enveloped her from behind as Seven’s chin slid over her shoulder, the woman’s cheek against her ear._

_They stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity as she tried to fight her grief._

_Seven shifted pulling her closer, and a_ _leg came beside hers, dangling from the bed, bare toes pressed to the floor._

_Seven kissed her temple and ran a hand along her thigh with a ginger touch. Up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, the hand’s rubbing reassured her pain._

_Before she could stop it, her wracking sobs sputtered out, tears flowing free, and Seven dragged her to the middle of the bed, holding her tighter. She turned into her wife’s comforting grasp and let her forehead slump against the silent woman’s collarbone._

_Relief slowly filtered in as she released her grief._

_Seven didn’t pity her, just sat, as their sense of time and place melted away._

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**Present**

She didn’t remember when she fell asleep that night.

But the next morning she woke her raw eyes stung, blinded by the bright rays of sun stretching across the room’s walls, Seven’s arm and hand hanging limp over her waist. Huddled with Seven at her back she felt small, vulnerable, but better; the blonde wrapped around her as though protecting her from something.

It took a couple weeks for her to start feeling normal again, and during that time Seven slept closer to her than usual. Focusing on the love filling Seven’s embrace that transforming night comforted her with the solace she needed to catch up on missed sleep.

Day after day, the overbearing load that tried so hard to crush her lightened, thanks to the wife she had struggled to confide in.

Sometimes even the Captain needed to be saved.

The fireplace crackled softly, and the heat warmed her profile from where she lay on the rug. Above her Seven had that dazed look again; one of the Ex-Borg’s hands absently resting on her stomach.

“Come here.” Kathryn grinned a bit with a playful suggestion in her voice, taking Seven’s sweatshirt and guiding the woman down to her level. Once Seven laid on the floor beside her she propped herself on an elbow and looked into the eyes watching her from below. “Are you going to tell me why you were crying? Seems like more than old memories.” Kathryn said soft, her grin taming to a ginger smile as she set her hand on Seven’s waist.

Seven’s eyes searched hers. “…I was thinking about you.”

“Oh…” Kathryn’s guilt stirred from within. “Well that doesn’t make me feel good. Why?”

“I don’t know.” Seven’s confounded gaze looked to the ceiling, drawing Kathryn’s concern and tense brow. “Sometimes I wonder what I would do if I lost you.”

The Admiral clenched her jaw at the serious turn their conversation was taking, but Seven was never one to shy away from a difficult topic or an honest—sometimes too blunt—answer, and she loved that.

“I would be angry.”

Kathryn took a breath to abate her unease and gave Seven a reassuring squeeze, not knowing how else to respond to something they’d never spoken about.

Death was something most Starfleet families only loosely mentioned. No one wanted to prepare for, nor think about the ever-present threat of death to their loved one. Ruminating over such a topic only seemed to make unwanted outcomes a reality.

An Admiral, her time in the field lessened as she assumed the role of overseeing administrator—a remarkably tough job for an adventurer. Although, after Voyager, the down time was welcomed.

But just as she settled into her office, getting comfortable in her cushy chair, she realized something. It was the Captain’s duty to go down with the ship, but it was the Admiral’s responsibility to make sure that never happened, to bring ships home safe and sound, a heavy weight for even the toughest shoulders.

There was an old Starfleet superstition that said an Admiral on a starship was a bad omen, because it meant something ominous loomed over the horizon. Just coincidentally, wars had started, and ships tended to meet their doom with Admirals onboard.

“Loss is not always something we can prepare for, but death is an inevitable phase of life.” Kathryn didn’t soften the truth.

“I would bring you back.”

“Hey.” The Admiral grinned, brushing Seven’s cheek with her hand, getting the woman’s attention. “Don’t go digging me up from my grave.” She smirked and pulled Seven over her, flattening along the floor once more, giving Seven’s hovering form a once over before meeting the woman’s eyes. “Unless you know for certain I won’t come back as some messed up, demonic version of myself.” She tried to pull Seven to her, but Seven held firm in her stance on all fours, looking at her with a tilt of her head. “You remember, I showed you that late 20th century horror movie about the animals being buried and brought back to life.”

“With the advancements being made to nanoprobe technology, I don’t see that happening.”

_Advancements_ …for now only in the loosest sense of the word. The Admiralty joked and tossed around the idea of Starfleet super soldiers—humans enhanced with synthetic qualities; the notion becoming more conceivable each day…and worrisome.

Within the plethora of technology Voyager brought back, none fascinated Starfleet more than Borg technology, and she was prepared for a nasty fight the day their curious inquiries regarding Seven became more intrusive and less optional. Although a scientist at heart, she couldn’t allow such exploitation. Her wife would never become an experiment for them to poke and prod. They’d have to kill her before they laid a hand on Seven.

Kathryn slipped her fingers into the belt loops of Seven’s pants, but still Seven’s hand beside her ear stayed planted firm to the rug as Seven lifted her gaze, scanning the room in serious thought.

“It is possible your body may reject the nanoprobes…in that case I would assimilate you.”

That statement earned Seven a cocked brow as the blonde looked back to her, an incredulous smile emerging across the Admiral’s face. “I thought assimilation didn’t work on the dead.”

“I’ve seen instances where it has, provided you haven’t been dead long.”

“Okay…enough about death.” The Admiral tugged at the hem of Seven’s hanging shirt. “Come here, we’ll decide the fate of my afterlife later.”

Relent showed in Seven’s eyes as the zipper of the Admiral’s red shirt was taken into the woman’s hand and pulled down, exposing that grey crewneck beneath.

“Aren’t you hot?” Seven asked serious, but Kathryn couldn’t help but grin as Seven’s hand invaded her shirt, taking her side through the grey fabric.

“I like to think so.”

Seven glanced to Kathryn’s gaze with a smile and leaned down.

Their lips meshed first, then their hips as Kathryn pulled Seven to her; the barn’s welcomed cedar scent still clinging to her hardworking lover. Her hands slipped under Seven’s shirt, taking Seven’s strong sides.

_‘How perfect…what would I do without her?’_

A few years ago, Kathryn would have never imagined she’d catch herself thinking such a vulnerable thought. But love was a scary thing, a labyrinth with no end. And yes, sometimes she felt lost, still learning what to do and say through trial and error as their relationship progressed. She’d sold a piece of her soul, hoping love wouldn’t burn her if she figured out how to get it right.

Thank goodness Seven was very forgiving of all her mistakes. She could certainly learn a few lessons from the Ex-Borg.

The Admiral took Seven’s face, calming the younger woman’s impatient desire as gratitude slowed their kiss. They had plenty of time for lust later. She put her hands back on Seven’s sides, welcoming the exhilarant life flowing beneath her fingertips; a smirk tugging her mouth’s corner at the quickened tempo of Seven’s breaths.

Kudos to whoever it was beyond the stars that brought them together, out of the one and a million chances of a liberated Borg from the Delta quadrant surviving Voyager’s surmounting odds, finding a home amongst Earth’s “chaos”, and choosing to marry her.

She broke from Seven, the woman’s gaze confused and a little disappointed as she pulled away.

“You can’t rile me up then stop.” Seven’s frustration was clear in her voice, her chest heaving.

Kathryn gave a somber smile and rolled them onto their sides; her hands exploring the fire-warmed skin at her fingertips unrushed, gliding over a couple metal, star-like implants, having memorized their locations on Seven’s side and center of her spine. _‘I just want to feel you.’_

Her hands stopped as she rested her head against Seven’s collarbone; the blonde calming in her grasp, stroking her hair a couple times and setting that same hand along her waist as she relaxed into the floor with an inaudible sigh.

*ding-dong*

The Admiral cracked an eye open but stayed put.

“Kathryn…”

Seven said her name tenderly and started to move.

*ding-dong*

“I’ll get it.”

The Admiral held the escaping woman. “No.” She kissed Seven’s neck. “I got it. You relax.” She took her hands from Seven, groaning at the obstacle disrupting her comfort as she stood. “Computer, who’s at the door?” Kathryn headed to the foyer with a stretch, smoothing her hair in the process.

“Your sister, Phoebe.”

In the foyer her steps halted, stale anger rising within her as all the painful memories of her grief rushed back, including the complete whiplash of her mother’s sudden death.

“Let her in.” Seven’s voice echoed softly as she sauntered into the kitchen and leaned against the entryway.

Feeling the defiant clench of her brow, Kathryn hesitantly looked to where Seven stood with a reassuring gaze, knowing smile, and arms crossed over her chest.

Seven nodded, gesturing to the front door with her eyes.

Only because of Seven did she open the door, meeting those guilty cerulean eyes and the pouty ones of a tan and white Chihuahua mutt.

“Hey…” Phoebe threw a nervous crooked grin and held the dog to her face. “Truce?” Her teeth chattered a bit against the chilling wind.

Kathryn turned her back to her sister and moved towards the staircase but stopped short, standing in the middle of the foyer, trapping a grumble within the recesses of her throat.

Behind her the screen door screeched and a defeated sigh came from the woman entering the house.

“Hey Seven.” Phoebe’s disappointment dampened the stiff atmosphere.

The jingling of the dog’s collar tags and its nails scurrying across the hardwood towards Seven filled the silent foyer.

“I figured you could have her. She always liked you more than anyone else.” Phoebe cleared her throat, staying quiet a moment longer, and Kathryn sensed her troubled state, waiting for her sister to say what she really came to say.

“You still hate me huh?”

As foreseen Phoebe’s words were directed at her; Kathryn hesitating to turn and give her sister any acknowledgement, but she did, facing those vibrant colored eyes, Mom’s eyes. “We don’t need a dog.”

Phoebe glanced to Seven. “Maybe you should ask her first.” She looked back with the raise of her eyebrows and a hint of undeserved smugness on her face, as she pushed her hands into her coat pockets.

Sure enough, Seven picked up the dog, gently smiling at the now healthy, ten-pound ball of fur in her arms she’d once met as a runt on the brink of death, the dog’s tail wagging eager.

_‘Seven…’_ Kathryn groaned.

What could she say? Seven was happy and a dog wouldn’t be a burden to such a big house.

Those small dogs though…she never envisioned nor planned on having one in her life, nothing below thirty pounds. Her mind’s eye had already romanticized the image of a sturdy dog running the fields alongside the horses and protecting the farm. A scampering little thing tripping up her feet around the house was not in the plan. But at least the sweeping tall grass would camouflage it from birds of prey.

“Can we talk face to face for once?”

Kathryn looked to Phoebe, reminded of her sister’s presence.

“I’m tired of hearing your passive-aggressive grumbles over the phone.” Phoebe paused, an upward crease forming in her brow. “ _Katie_ …” She pleaded. “Come on…you’ve been keeping me at a distance for two years.”

Perfectly timed, tears started to well in Phoebe’s eyes.

Kathryn pursed her lips and averted her gaze, resisting the urge to roll her eyes, insensitive as that may have been.

“Please…I miss my sister.”

Kathryn turned her back to Phoebe, resting a hand on her hip as she started a mild pace.

Phoebe moved out a month after their fight, and she had been going through the motions since, only talking to her sister when needed. Phoebe reminded her of the crippling sadness that almost consumed her.

“Mom wouldn’t want this for us.” Phoebe’s footsteps neared and Kathryn glanced to Seven, whose brow tensed as she raised the implant over her eye.

_‘Be nice’_ That’s what Seven was telling her.

No, Mom wouldn’t like this, and she knew it wasn’t fair to spite her sister. But it felt good to give Phoebe a taste of what life without her would be. She wanted Phoebe to feel the loneliness her selfish actions would bring.

But in the end, they were still sisters.

Turning to Phoebe she avoided her sister’s watery gaze, extending an arm after a moment of hesitance, granting her permission to enter their lives again with a subtle nod.

Phoebe pounced on her, jarring her resolve and forcing her to catch her balance with a countering step back; Phoebe’s arms tight around her shoulders and neck.

Tears wet her shoulder as Phoebe’s sniffles touched her ear. Biting back her grudge Kathryn put a weak hand on her sister’s back.

“I’m so sorry. I should’ve said something.” Phoebe’s breath shuttered and Kathryn relaxed into the hug, putting her other hand on Phoebe’s back, suddenly feeling just as guilty.

A glance in Seven’s direction earned her her wife’s knowing look before Seven pushed off the wall and disappeared into the kitchen with the dog under her arm.

Kathryn’s eyes began to water. She should have never let her grudge cloud the love she had for her sister. Mom would never want them to be estranged from one another. “I’m sorry too.” She softly admitted.

Phoebe took Kathryn’s shoulders and pushed apart the hug. “No. You’ve always been a great big sister…I should’ve listened to you more.” She looked to the ground with a sniffle. “I was always fucking things up, ruining the family…” She glanced up to Kathryn. “Feel free to stop me at any time.” With a chuckle she wiped away a stray tear.

“Well…” Kathryn managed a smile and Phoebe let her go with a joking scoff.

“You’re enjoying this.”

“Not as much as I thought I would…”

They stared at each other, Phoebe’s eyes glistening with sincere guilt.

Another launching hug blindsided Kathryn, Phoebe squeezing tight, crushing her for a quick second.

“Why is your hair so long?” Phoebe pulled away with a stroke to Kathryn’s hair.

“She won’t let me cut it. Not yet.”

“Ah…I see.” Turning to the kitchen, Phoebe stuck her hands in her coat pockets and smiled at the floor. “A noble sacrifice for her happiness.”

“Speaking of which, are you and Ethan ever going to get married?” Kathryn entered the kitchen alongside Phoebe, watching her sister for a curious moment before looking away; Dim, recessed lights accentuating the room with an amber glow.

“We can only handle one stress at a time…”

Kathryn heard the smile in Phoebe’s voice and turned to her, stopping beside the counter.

“…In light of recent discoveries our minds have been…preoccupied.”

“Discoveries?”

“…” Phoebe grinned. “I’m pregnant!” 

Kathryn grabbed her sister’s arm. “What? Really?”

Phoebe gave a few fast nods and a matching grin spread across the Admiral’s face. This time she was the one yanking her sister in for a hug, pulling away shortly after but letting a supportive hand linger on Phoebe’s shoulder. “Wow…That’s great.”

“I wish mom could be here for it.”

Kathryn squeezed Phoebe’s shoulder. “She knows.” She said before her smile could drop to a frown at the sorrow in Phoebe’s tone. “And she would be very happy.”

“You know…” Phoebe softened her voice with a smirk and leaned in slightly. “I think Seven would make a great mother.”

_‘…and I’m not ready to go there…’_ Patting Phoebe on the back, Kathryn glanced to Seven sitting on the sofa with the dog curled in her lap. “Don’t give her any ideas.” She mumbled with a smile.

“Katie.”

Her hand slipped from Phoebe as her sister leaned her hip on the counter’s edge and crossed her arms over her chest. “You can’t waste genes like that.” She whispered, glancing to Seven as well.

“I agree with your sister…and congratulations.” Seven called out from across the room, startling Phoebe the most.

“Wha—how did she—I was whispering.”

Kathryn sucked in her amused smile. Never assume Seven’s not listening, she learned that a long time ago.

“Borg…right.” Phoebe leaned over the counter with a smug look. “So Seven…just how much _have_ you heard in this house?”

Seven glanced to them and stood, the dog hopping off the sofa and following her with a bounce in its steps.

Kathryn couldn’t help but stare at the statuesque woman nearing them; the fire’s glow catching her graceful curves.

“My auditory processors can hear at greater distances and with greater detail than the average human ear.” Seven stopped on the other side of the counter challenging Phoebe's smirk with her own. “There have been _many_ things I’ve involuntarily heard.”

“Is that so…”

Tongue in cheek Kathryn caught Seven’s playful glance then looked to Phoebe with an emerging smile.

Seven had a habit of eavesdropping, although, whether morally right or wrong, she claimed it wasn’t eavesdropping when all she did was pass by Phoebe’s room and hear vocalizations and moans without effort.

But even with that said, Seven really didn’t need to tell her about her sister’s lustful affairs. That wasn’t a mental picture she wanted, and especially not while in bed; Seven learning the right and wrong time to mention things.

The Admiral felt a chuckle rising in her throat. All of Seven’s quirks had their place in her heart.

Seven meandered into the kitchen, surprising her with a lazy embrace from behind. “Have you eaten anything?”

A blush crept to Kathryn’s cheeks as Phoebe looked at her raising a suggestive brow. “No.”

Seven kissed her temple and let go. “I’ll make something.”

The Admiral looked to her sister, wanting to tackle that teasing smile off Phoebe’s face. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“As long as a show isn’t included for the main course.”

Kathryn resisted the urge to punch Phoebe in the arm, rolling her eyes at her sister’s typical veiled innuendo.

Peeling out of her coat Phoebe sat at the breakfast table, turning her chair to face Seven, and Kathryn allowed herself a soft smile as she tuned out the beginning conversation between her sister and Seven; her eyes passively watching as the Ex-Borg pulled out fresh food and ignored the ease of the replicator just like Mom.

_“She’s special Kathryn. Treat her right and don’t let her go. You’ll be sorry if you do.”_

“Very true.” She whispered a response to the memory of her mother’s advice.

At two tiny paws pressing into her shin, she looked down to the dog gazing up at her where it pulled a satisfying stretch against her leg.

_‘You’re using me as a stretching post. Wonderful.’_ Her sarcastic thoughts didn’t sour the house’s warming atmosphere, and she leaned over, petting the dog on the head. _‘Better to make amends with it now.’_

This was their new normal, and within it they’d still find ways to create happiness, smiling through old memories as they made new ones. 

Mom was out there somewhere on her horse, riding the plains with a bright smile, free, without ailments or age holding her back, and she was proud of them, happy to finally rest in true peace.

_‘You’re right…we’ll be okay.’_

END

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**A.N. WRITING ENDINGS IS HARD! lol. There’s an “Epilogue” coming and an extra scene I _may_ decide to post. To those of you who read this, thank you. I hope you enjoyed something in this short story. I know it’s got a lot of flaws, but I would love to hear what you thought about it. **

**Personally, I loved writing chapter 5. The Captain on a horse is a very compelling image** **—too bad I can’t draw it.lol.**

**I’m sure some areas of this story are OTT** **—a trend in many of my stories** **—but I tried my best to stay true to character for both Seven and Janeway. I read somewhere that Janeway went through a major depression when her father died, and so I sort of played with the idea of how she would handle major grief. She is a very complex character; an emotional, hopeless romantic on one side, and a staunch, fearless leader on the other.**

**With Seven…well, we all know about her nurturing tendencies. I can see this being amplified should she develop a deep bond with someone.**

**This is actually the first multi-chapter story I’ve finished, so that is sort of exciting. I will be heading back to Self-Control now, and I’m a little nervous to be honest.**

**Thanks again for stopping by and reading. :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Epilogue**

It took a couple more weeks but Seven finally let her cut her hair.

She turned from the bedroom vanity zipping her Admiral’s jacket, smiling at the disheveled sleeper on the bed. That same smile dropping to a purse when she looked at the dog curled on the empty pillow beside Seven, _her_ pillow. _‘So that’s what happens when I leave. The dog happily takes my place.’_

Chihuahuas, she was surprised the breed survived so long without extinction.

But she had to admit, the feisty little dog had the courageous spirit of a predator in the wild, storming into the stables like a detention officer, scaring most of the horses as it trotted the length of the barn.

“Chi-wee”, that’s what she called it. Seven hated it when she made fun of the dog, but sometimes she just couldn’t stand those beady, dark eyes staring at her; the dog having a habit of coming to the study and standing in the doorway, watching her like a stalker before scampering off to find Seven.

If dogs could glare, this one might’ve, loving her when it wanted but staying fiercely protective of its primary owner.

After all, Seven did save its life.

For three weeks she came home, finding Seven sitting on the living room floor with a few towels draped over her and the rug as she fed the undernourished, five-week-old puppy with formula from a syringe. What first started out as a favor to Phoebe, turned into a rollercoaster of ups and downs. Seven started confident in her abilities, timing the puppy’s care down to the minutiae, but when the dog’s health didn’t improve, she began to doubt herself.

The first week Seven cared for the dog, she watched her overly attentive fiancée with a knowing eye, fearing the very real possibility that the puppy could pass any day, any moment, becoming a lesson in death instead of life.

Still a Captain and put in charge of creating a series of presentations to introduce Voyager’s advanced technologies to Starfleet admiralty, she hoped to leave caring for the puppy to Seven. But when Seven didn’t sleep for days, keeping a constant watchful eye over the puppy she toted around in a small box, she “temporarily relieved her from duty”, spending a few calm hours with the puppy in her study.

The dog was kind of cute, but so small. She hardly trusted herself with it, fearing her slightest touch would kill it.

_“Phoebe…”_

Staring at the dog curled in a fuzzy blanket, she used to curse her sister. One, for bringing the dog into the house, and two, for letting Seven get so attached.

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_A terrified yelp startled her awake, screeching throughout the room like a constant siren._

_"Seven?" She sat up, rolling over to an empty bedside as her heart’s quickened beats pounded against her chest. The yelping continued; a hair-raising distress almost deafening to the ear. Her eyes searched the dark, adjusting enough to spot a figure crouched beside the bed. “Seven?”_

_"She's not improving."_

_Kathryn slid out of bed with a groggy push, hearing the frantic shudder in Seven's voice._

_"What do I do?"_

_Rubbing the sleep from her eyes she stood over Seven and looked at the shaking puppy in the box, struggling to stand on its own wobbling legs. Experience told her to prepare for the worst, though it was never easy seeing an animal that just wasn’t strong enough to survive. She headed to the closet in the hallway, returning with a couple hand towels._

_Picking up the dog, she looked at the feeble life the size of her hand with despair as she wrapped the dog in the towels and pulled Seven up from the floor. "Lay down." She nudged Seven towards the bed, guiding her with a gentle grasp on the woman’s side._

_"She needs to eat."_

_"No. Don't overwhelm her system." Kathryn watched Seven sit on the edge before stealing a glance to the puppy swaddled in her grasp. "See, she's quiet." She looked to Seven’s edgy gaze. "She just wants you...here, keep her warm." Kathryn handed the puppy to Seven, setting a reassuring hand on Seven’s shoulder before climbing into bed._

_"...She's going to die." Seven’s voice sounded resolute._

_"…Come here." Kathryn tugged on the hunching woman’s tee shirt with a weary pull. “Seven…”_

_Seven turned and leaned back against the headboard, watching the puppy in her lap._

_Figuring that was the best Seven would do given her unsettled state, Kathryn stretched out alongside her, resting her hand on Seven’s thigh. With her head sinking into her pillow, she fought the urge to close her eyes, wanting to make sure Seven was okay before she went back to sleep. "Put her on your chest...” Her voice came out nearly hoarse as she slid her hand over Seven’s folded ones and guided the bundle up to Seven’s chest. “Hearing your heartbeat soothes them."_

_“Why?”_

_Kathryn took a moment to answer, her eyes growing heavy and her mind slipping into a haze. “It reminds them of their mother.”_

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Seven greeted her with kisses the following morning, and the first sight she saw once she stirred were two tiny, dark brown eyes watching her. The puppy's head stuck out of a pink towel like a joey from a pouch; the tips of its floppy ears bouncing with every shift of its head.

Watching the dog grow, slowly filling out to the size it was supposed to be, she felt pride and even more love for the woman many regarded with unease due to her Borg backstory.

Maybe they’d still get that herding dog, but one thing for certain, she couldn’t replace something Seven had a connection to.

The Admiral walked to the bed, picking up Seven’s dangling leg and setting it back on the mattress as she sat on the edge, sparing a quick glance to the dog whose eyes opened, watching her.

She leaned and reached over the woman’s abdomen, trapping Seven beneath her.

“Hey.” Giving a tender smile her other hand slipped under the heightened hem of Seven’s tee-shirt, resting on the woman’s stomach, Seven’s skin warm and soft.

With an arm strewn above her head, Seven’s eyes cracked open slow at her voice. A flash of green flickered in the Ex-Borg’s eyes, and after years of seeing that electric glint she recognized when the woman was scanning her.

“What time is it?” Sleep thickened Seven’s voice as Seven shifted, looking to the window over her shoulder, probably wondering why the room was still dark.

“3:15 in the morning.” Kathryn kept her voice soft.

Seven’s hands reached out, and at her shoulders Seven stretched against her with a gentle push; the Ex-Borg’s brow furrowing as her eyes searched the Starfleet uniform. “What? Where are you going?”

“They called me in…but haven’t told me why.”

Silence hovered around them.

For the first time in a while Kathryn hesitated to go to work.

Calling her in this early…there was probably a diplomatic crisis on the verge. But she didn’t say that to Seven, nor did she mention the _“Likelihood”_ that she’d have to get on a ship, as fleetingly stated by the Admiral above her. According to him it might only be a day trip, but what her tenured experience told her was that a day in space was never a day, it always stretched to something more.

She heavily debated telling Seven, knowing that withholding information only led to bad outcomes. But what was the use in worrying her if she didn’t know all the facts? For all she knew, she might go into work early only for them to say they resolved the issue.

But something felt different about this time.

Letting her hand slide to Seven’s side, Kathryn leaned down and kissed Seven on the forehead. “I love you. I don’t think I’ve said that enough.”

Seven’s arms lazily wrapped around her neck; their heavy, limp weight pulling her down, luring their foreheads together. She rested against Seven, feeling herself relax into the embrace with a gentle sigh as Seven’s easy breaths moved with hers.

“I have to go.” Giving Seven’s lips and cheek a quick kiss, Kathryn slipped from her wife’s tensing grip. “I’ll call you later if I can.” She stood and hurried out the room.

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Seven sat up amongst the disheveled sheets with a clenched brow.

Something. Wasn’t. Right.

_’99.7_ _°, 90 bpm’_ Kathryn’s temperature along with her heart rate had risen during their conversation; Kathryn’s fingertips pressing into her side during the bittersweet moment they sat in each other’s grasps.

And then there was her sudden, rather suspicious exit.

Seven tossed the bedsheet back and stood; the dog hopping off the bed behind her, rushing to follow her hastened stride out the room.

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Popping the collar of her coat, ready to brave the sunless chill of the morning, the Admiral stepped to the door.

“Kathryn.”

Her hand froze on the handle, and for a moment she wanted to press her head to the door and grumble a sigh.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

At the irritation in Seven’s voice, she pictured her wife’s furrowed brow, piercing gaze, and tense lips focused on her. She lingered for a moment, deciding what to say, smirking. Seven’s “Borg-sense” never let her down. “I might not be home tonight.”

A stair creak and a jingle of dog tags disrupted the silence. Kathryn turned an ear over her shoulder, hesitating to meet the woman’s gaze, fearing Seven might spot an apprehensive crack in her resolve.

“And you didn’t feel the need to tell me, why?”

She took in a breath of courage and turned around, facing the t-shirt-and-shorts clad woman standing in the middle of the staircase with her hand on the rail; Seven’s wispy fly-a-ways crowning her face, tainting the woman’s perfection.

From the Kitchen, the nighttime lights’ somber orange glow seeped across the foyer, touching their profiles.

The Admiral walked to the bottom of the staircase and propped her foot on a step, looking up at Seven with an escaping smile. She grabbed the railing, resting her unoccupied hand on her propped thigh. “I don’t know for sure…” She looked down. “I didn’t see the need to worry you.”

Seven descended a few steps closer. “You leaving at this time in the morning is worrisome enough.”

The dog sat on the step behind Seven as the woman stopped before her, Kathryn swearing she saw judgement in its gaze. _‘Oh what do **you** know?’ _She grimaced at the dog with a quick wrinkle of her nose.

“You withholding information does not benefit either of us.”

Taking a deep breath, Kathryn squirmed a little in her proud stance. Yeah, Seven was right.

She met Seven’s gaze, not surprised to see anger and worry in her eyes. Now it was time for diplomacy.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” On the railing, the Admiral’s hand slid over the one across from her fingertips. “I’ll let you know when I have a definite answer—”

“I do not appreciate you keeping things from me.” Seven’s words were sharp.

Kathryn pulled back her hand, closing her open mouth and swallowing her guilt.

When the “Borg-side” of Seven came out it meant diplomatic tactics wouldn’t work. It wasn’t easy to admit, but the unwavering seriousness in Seven’s gaze sometimes unnerved her.

All over again she felt like an Ensign being reprimanded for blowing up the Positronic relays, but an angry spouse seemed like a worse consequence, especially when that said spouse could tinker with the central processor of the house’s computer and make her life hell—Seven’s Borg encryptions airtight.

She vividly remembered the ungodly number of cold showers she took the last time Seven was angry; the replicator only giving her milk when she asked for coffee.

Just to challenge Seven, she drank milk for two weeks, making sure the Ex-Borg saw the empty glass on her coffee coaster; the whole argument caused over Seven’s discovery of the emotion called jealousy, and Lydia Walker, a then fellow Captain, was the unfortunate target after Seven visited headquarters and saw her coworker’s hand on her arm.

She tried to explain to Seven that Captain Walker was just a “touchy” person, and it didn’t mean anything.

_“She will not be touching you”_ was Seven’s response to that. On the third time Seven caught Lydia’s hand on her arm, Seven surprised them both with a _“Remove your hand or it will be broken”_ remark, to which her subsequent brushing off of Seven’s threat with a nervous chuckle as Seven stared daggers at Lydia, was where she apparently went wrong; Seven believing she took Lydia’s side.

The scary part about Seven’s Borg-side, was that she was entirely sure Seven would’ve made good on her threat and broken the woman’s hand—a diplomatic catastrophe that would’ve put her in the hotseat.

“You’re right.” Kathryn relented, her shoulders deflating with a sigh as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “That was a bad call.”

“You said you may not be home tonight…Why?” Seven’s voice softened.

“There’s a chance I may have to get on a ship—”

“What—”

“Seven.” The Admiral warned, holding her hand up, trying to prevent the spiraling conversation she knew was coming but Seven kept going. 

“Without giving you sufficient notice or time to prepare—”

“Nature of the job Seven, you know that.” Kathryn stated firm but sympathized with the anxiety in Seven’s eyes, knowing the “preparation and notice” were more for Seven’s mental well-being than her own; Seven not keen on spontaneity.

This would be only her second deployment since Voyager came home; the first being a week turned to two months of stress as she oversaw the retrofitting of new technologies on existing Starfleet ships. Mistakes were bound to get made but getting thrown to the Beta Quadrant in a transwarp test gone wrong was something she didn’t want to happen again.

Once they docked safely home, her next deployment should’ve been right around the corner, but managed to fall through.

She never told Seven about that one, B’Elanna advising her it wasn’t a good idea right after hopping off one ship. According to her, Seven didn’t take the first deployment well. A surprise to them both.

Coming off that first deployment just months after their marriage, Seven nearly broke her in half with a bewildering hug; onlookers at Starfleet headquarters probably staring or smirking along with B’Elanna as she got a taste of Seven’s crushing enhanced strength, her toes barely touching floor. Tapping her surrender on the Ex-Borg’s back, she wheezed a few times after being granted her release.

On the way home, Seven’s mood soured, confusing her with silent passive-aggressiveness as her and B’Elanna traded pleasantries.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_They both waited in the kitchen, listening as Seven’s fading footsteps ascended the staircase; Seven taking the Admiral’s bag to the room without a word or glance to either of them._

_“Okaay…” Leaning against the rim of the sink, with the mid-day sun warming her back through the kitchen window, Kathryn took a sip from a ceramic mug in her hand, glancing out the entryway and back to the half-Klingon sitting at the breakfast table. “What’s going on with Seven? I assume you know why she’s acting strange.”_

_“Well, she hasn’t heard from you in two months. If that were Tom, I’d be pissed too.” B’Elanna raised an eyebrow. “What happened? Seven told me the mission was only supposed to be a week.”_

_The Admiral stuck her hand in her pocket. Left in her grey shirt she glanced to the chair opposite B’Elanna where her uniform jackets hung. She’d hurried them off, relieved to be home. “It was…until one of the engineers blasted us to the Beta Quadrant.”_

_“Transwarp tech problems?”_

_“Something like that.”_

_“You’re not going to tell me more, are you?”_

_“I’ve already said too much. The mission was classified.” The Admiral sighed her guilt. “We weren’t allowed to make any personal calls.”_

_“I get the feeling if we were still in the Delta Quadrant you would’ve bent the rules.”_

_Kathryn gave a tired smile. “Probably.” She hesitated, biting the inside of her lip before taking another sip of coffee. “I thought about it…many times…but as a commanding officer it wouldn’t have been right for me to be allowing myself privileges others didn’t have. Not to mention the reprimand I would’ve received had that gotten out.”_

_“Since when do you care about a reprimand?” B’Elanna smirked. “I thought Admirals weren’t supposed to be on ships anyway.”_

_“Apparently this one is special.” Kathryn took a seat opposite the Klingon, holding a crooked grin. “Someone’s got to teach them how to use the new technology, and only Voyager’s crew knows.” She paused, glancing over B’Elanna’s form._

_More content than she’d ever known the hot-headed woman to be, B’Elanna seemed relaxed, happy, and fulfilled. Not being her Captain, or even her commanding officer anymore, allowed their friendship to grow, but she missed their camaraderie on Voyager. Her greatest engineer always had her back, getting them out of many tough situations._

_“I’ve stood in on a few of your classes. You have a knack for teaching.”_

_“So you’re the creeper in the back of the room. I figured as much.”_

_“Sorry I couldn’t stay and catch up with you sooner.” The Admiral glanced to the table, at the mug sitting just inches from her fingertips, her smile fading. “But what were you saying about Seven?”_

_“I don’t think she handled you being away well. She might seem overly independent, but she doesn’t like being by herself. Maybe that’s a part of the collective that will always be with her.”_

_“Maybe.”_

_“…She called **me** first…”_

_Meeting B’Elanna’s gaze, Kathryn raised an eyebrow._

_“Exactly, you can imagine my surprise.” B’Elanna paused. “I guess she thought I had inside information on your deployment. But a contract engineer and a former Maqui don’t exactly have the highest clearance in Starfleet.”_

_Kathryn furrowed her brow, concern in her eyes. “Why didn’t you take the commission?”_

_“Didn’t seem like a good idea at the time. I wanted to focus on Miral. Make my own rules, my own schedules.” B’Elanna turned away. “Frankly, I’m getting used to the idea of leaving Starfleet to Tom. Always hated those uniforms anyway.” She chuckled._

_“They’d hire you in a heartbeat.”_

_“But do I **want** to go back up there?” B’Elanna glanced away. “Not yet. Unlike Seven, I don’t feel more comfortable being in space. I like my feet on the ground every once in a while.” _

_“Is that what she told you?” Kathryn’s brow tensed. Seven adapted to Earth rather well. In the beginning there were a lot of new things for her to get used to, but now she seemed happy. What was this talk of her feeling more comfortable in space?_

_“Not exactly.” B’Elanna looked down and shifted in her seat as Kathryn watched her. “I probably shouldn’t say anything…but…she told me once that Earth doesn’t feel like home to her…” B’Elanna trailed off but Kathryn sat eager, her eyes unapologetically boring holes into the woman’s presence. There had to be more to the story._

_“She feels like an outsider.” B’Elanna looked up, a rare empathy in her eyes._

_“What?”_

_“I get why she feels that way. Humans only see me as a Klingon.” B’Elanna paused. “She wants to belong somewhere, but never seems to find where she fits in. When you’re gone, I don’t think she knows what to do.”_

_Kathryn ran a hand down her face, stopping at her mouth as she stared at the table._

_“Every time I called, she ended up talking about you.” B’Elanna rolled her eyes and smiled. “God, I didn’t think she could get so infatuated with one person. She loves talking about you.”_

_“Good things I hope.” Kathryn’s words came out half-hearted, her mind absorbing the unsettling truths B’Elanna spoke. It concerned her to know how alone Seven felt; the Ex-Borg doing a great job of hiding her feelings._

_“Mostly.”_

_The Admiral smiled at the smirk in B’Elanna’s voice and took a sip of coffee. “Dare I say it, but it looks like you two are becoming friends.” She set her empty mug back on the table._

_“Who would’ve thought.” B’Elanna laughed. “She used to irritate the shit out of me. But…there’s a good person under all that self-righteousness.”_

_“Careful what you say…” Kathryn eyed the woman across from her with an idle smirk. “…you’re talking to the spouse now.”_

_“And yours is a wrath I’d rather avoid. That says a lot coming from a Klingon.”_

_Kathryn’s smirk stretched to a smile, it fading shortly after as she leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs, looking away. “I guess now is a bad time to tell her I’ll be deploying again.”_

_“Already?” B’Elanna scoffed mirroring the Admiral’s posture and crossing her arms. “You think after everything they’d give you a break.”_

_“Well they gave me a year. I’d say that’s generous.”_

_“Stingy is more like it.” B’Elanna murmured and shook her head in disappointment._

_“The next deployment should be in a few months, but that one will be longer. We’re looking at about six months right now.”_

_“Not classified I hope.”_

_“Not yet.”_

_“I would wait a couple weeks to tell her. Enjoy some time together first.” B’Elanna’s face took a solemn glow. “She worries about you…I think I’m going to call it “Voyager Syndrome”.”_

_“What’s that?” The Admiral’s gaze drifted to B’Elanna’s as she allowed a soft smile to grace her features._

_“She thinks you’re going to get stuck out there again. Only this time…she won’t be with you.”_

_Kathryn looked away. The concern was a very real possibility, and a haunting one at that. “We’re working to make sure that **never** happens again…but…it is the nature of the job...” She turned to B’Elanna with a stern gaze. “And I’m not quitting any time soon.”_

_“Sounds like you two have some things to discuss.”_

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Her and Seven always seemed to bypass those discussions, and now she was understanding why they were so important. As rewarding as farm work sometimes was, Seven needed more to do. Something challenging and technical for her, to keep her mind focused. Starfleet would love to have her as a cryptographer, deciphering advanced code and algorithms in days as compared to weeks.

Over time Seven would get used to her deployments, and everything would become second nature. But how long would that take?

Seven’s hand slipped from beneath hers as the woman closed the distance between them, stunning Kathryn from her thoughts with a hug.

While she was happy Seven had learned to embrace the human tradition of hugging—at least with her, Seven’s hugs were never just quick reassurances, they were always jampacked with overwhelming emotion.

She still smiled at the memory of Seven’s first hug, following one of their Captain’s quarters “dates”. It was a bit weird and stiff, but she could feel how much it meant to Seven.

“Seven.” The Admiral chuckled, her hand rubbing the small of Seven’s back. “Relax, I’m just going into the office.” She pressed her hand into Seven’s stomach and forced apart the hug, Seven’s unsettled gaze guilting the amused smile off her face.

She saw fear in Seven’s eyes, and a chill rushed her spine.

“Go back to bed…” Kathryn spoke soft, brushing down some of Seven’s fly-a-ways. She glanced down to the dog now standing against her leg looking up. “…and…take Chiwee Janeway with you.” Kathryn backed off the steps with a small crooked grin that faded as she turned and walked to the door. “I promise I’ll call you later.”

“You forget about things when you start working—”

“Seven.” The Admiral took a silent moment to quiet her simmering frustration, loosening the sudden furrow in her brow before turning her profile to the woman now on the same level as her. She didn’t need to go all day feeling guilty, wondering about Seven’s wellbeing. Not because she didn’t care but because she needed to focus on work.

“Be hopeful.” She met Seven’s gaze with a stern one. “I need you to be hopeful.” Her eyes softened as compassion found its way into her voice.

Their gazes lingered on one another for a second too long before Kathryn turned her back to Seven and opened the door.

“I’ll see you later.” Kathryn stuck her hand in her coat pocket, bracing against the cold air wafting into the house. “Don’t worry so much. We’ll talk when I get home.” She called over her shoulder and stepped out.

Closing the door behind her, she stood on the porch, her eyes drifting about the shadowed landscape before her.

What did the day have in store for her? Her gut said nothing good, but how was she to know for sure? Uncertainty was the thrill of life, wasn’t it? It’s what set her off to the stars in the first place, and she’d be damned to let a weird feeling shake her resolve.

Somehow, someway, she’d always return home.

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**A.N. There is a true story behind the dog. It is a personal homage to a wonderful little foster dog that unfortunately didn’t make it.**

**Anyway, this _might_ be setting something up for another story down the line. ;)**


End file.
